


Your Hands on Me

by Triangulum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Massage Therapist Peter, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9854222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: Stiles has the most ridiculously inappropriate lady boner for her massage therapist and technically, it's all Greenberg's fault. The idiot had been texting and driving in the college parking lot and had crashed right into her, sending her jeep over the guardrail and into a tree. She hadn't broken anything, but her doctor had recommended massage therapy. Luckily for her, her insurance actually covers it.OrMassage therapist Peter feels up his client.





	

Stiles has the most ridiculously inappropriate lady boner for her massage therapist and technically, it's all Greenberg's fault. The idiot had been texting and driving in the college parking lot and had crashed right into her, sending her jeep over the guardrail and into a tree. She hadn't broken anything, but her doctor had recommended massage therapy. Luckily for her, her insurance actually covers it.

Her first appointment is hard. Her body hurts, for one thing. For another, her massage therapist, a man named Peter, is insanely hot. He's well-built with a thick neck (how does she even have a thing for necks now?) and has ridiculously strong hands that she just can't wait to have all over her. She changes her mind about that pretty quickly because _fuck_ that hurts. She hadn't realized how sore her body is until Peter starts working on her muscles. She actually whimpers a bit and wow, isn't that embarrassing. 

"I know," Peter murmurs. "It will get easier as sessions go on. Your muscles are just locked up fighting to relax now. Do you feel this?"

Peter presses a spot on her back and she can feel the entire muscle spasm and flutter.

"Ouch," she answers.

She can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, "That muscle is trying to hold onto the tension. We need it to let go."

He runs a strong hand down her back, soothing the spot where he'd just pressed. He works on her back for most of the time, but he makes sure to give her whole body attention. Her arms and legs are less sore and she feels soft and float-y while he works on her, running hands down her smooth arms and massaging the tension from her calves and thighs. The soft music playing in the background and the sweet pea pomegranate candle Peter has lit are doing their job relaxing her.

Stiles tenses a little when he gets to her neck. She's always been ridiculously ticklish there, despite her attempts to train herself out of it. But Peter seems to know exactly what he's doing and presses just hard enough to keep from tickling her, but light enough not to hurt. She's not a deep tissue massage fan if she can avoid it. 

Peter shows her a few stretches (wow he's flexible) and advises her to use ice to avoid swelling. Stiles leaves a bit sore, but overall feeling a lot better. She's set with an appointment for a few days later and a huge crush on her massage therapist.

Stiles is still sore in classes for the next few days. Greenberg tries to apologize again and Stiles, again, threatens to break his nose if he keeps bugging her. She tries to sit correctly, the way Peter showed her that's good for her spine, but she's so used to slouching that it's hard to correct right away. She complains about this to Peter at their next appointment and he just smiles.

"It's a hard habit to break," he agrees. "Your back and neck will thank you for it in the long run though. Did you end up breaking Greenberg's nose?"

"No, he knocked it off," Stiles says. 

"Smart of him," Peter says. "All right, I'll leave the room and let you undress and get under the sheet. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay," Stiles says, not even waiting for him to go before kicking off her shoes.

She's been looking forward to this for the last few days. She's been less sore after seeing Peter last, but his hands do magical things to her back and she wants it again, okay? Her insurance is only going to cover five of these sessions, so she needs to make them count. The table has a heating pad under it, making the sheets delightfully toasty as she slides in and positions herself on her stomach. Her nipples brush against the soft fabric deliciously and she shifts around a few times until she's comfortable. A soft knock on the door alerts her that Peter's back.

"Ready," she calls. 

There are soft footfalls that let her know Peter is back in the room, then the flick of a lighter and the aroma of sweet pea pomegranate is filling the room. Peter puts on the soothing music again and pulls the sheet down her back, stopping right above the swell of her ass.

This session is as torturous as the first, but for completely different reasons. The pain isn't all-consuming like it was for their first appointment. Now, the pain is somewhat in the background and the kind of ache that's pleasant. What she's really focusing on is Peter's hands. How large they are spanning over her back. The strength he uses to work out the stubborn knot near her shoulder. How warm and soft they are against her skin. She's so going to hell.

The thing is, Peter seems to be a master of finding just the right spots on her body (is that what a pressure point is? She doesn't know) that make her react. The first time he presses down with his thumb about halfway down her back, near her spine, she lets out an embarrassing squeak. His hand pauses.

"Does that hurt?"

"No," she manages to squeak out. "Sorry, I was just surprised."

Peter presses down again and Stiles has to bite her lip not to make a sound. A shock of pleasure jolts through her, and a soft, tingly feeling she can't really describe emanates from where Peter's touching her. Her arm twitches a bit at her side, but Peter doesn't comment on it. He smooths his hands over her back in swirling motions and Stiles sighs, thinking that's the end of it. Then he presses again, higher up on the other side, and the same thing happens again. 

Stiles closes her eyes and tries to will the feeling down, but is horrified to find that there's heat pooling between her legs. She squeezes her thighs together, trying to squash the feeling, but that just makes it worse. She lets out a little moan.

"I know that's sore," Peter says in apology, rubbing his hand over the spot where he'd just pressed. Stiles doesn't correct him. "It's just the muscle letting go."

Stiles' lip is raw from how much she's bitten it by the time he's done with her back. Things don't get better though because Peter sits on a small rolling stool near her head to work on her upper shoulders. Through the round opening where her face is resting, Stiles can see his spread, muscular thighs, and the bulge in his jeans that lets him know he's more than impressive. He's close enough that she could reach out and touch if she wants. She keeps her fists firmly closed at her side. Peter tuts when he notices this.

"Relax," he says. He stands for a second, running his hands down her arms until they reach her fists, gently coaxing her hands to open.

"Sorry," she says.

"Don't be," Peter says. He takes his seat again putting his crotch and thighs on display, and Stiles stares, transfixed as he works out the knots and tension in her shoulders. It should be illegal for pants to be that tight. Is that even comfortable? It has to be, because he seems perfectly at ease. 

After he's done with her shoulders, he pulls the sheet up her back and has her turn over under it so that she's face up. This is marginally better, because she's staring at the ceiling now instead of between Peter's legs, but it puts her flushed face into his view. He doesn't comment on her rosy cheeks, thankfully. He does run his fingers through her hair, gathering it to the side so he can touch her neck. She glances down and blushes bright red when she realizes her nipples are hard and clearly visible poking up under the sheet that's covering her.

When Peter finally finishes, he touches her shoulders briefly before instructing her to redress so they can go over stretches. When the door is closed behind him, Stiles stands on shaking legs and winces at the sticky wetness between her thighs. It's uncomfortable to put her underwear back on like this, but she does anyway. Her skin feels more sensitive than ever as she redresses, her bra torturous against her nipples. She's glad she chose loose sweats and a t-shirt because anything tight would just be uncomfortable. 

Peter comes back in and shows her a few stretches, one where she has to bend over the table with her legs straight to work her hamstrings. Peter does it next to her, adjusting her back and hips just so. It's then that Stiles notices it. A wet patch on the table right where she'd be lying. Stiles gasps, causing Peter to look over at her in alarm.

"Does that hurt?" he asks.

"No, no," she says quickly. "I just, uh, remembered something."

Peter looks confused then, to Stiles' horror, he turns and his eyes glance over the damp spot. His eyebrow raises but he says nothing. There's no way he didn't notice it, it's not possible, but he says nothing, just continues to stretch beside her. When she leaves, he squeezes her shoulder lightly as he tells her goodbye. Stiles feels tingly the rest of the night. 

It's hard to make herself go to her next appointment a few days later. She's had time to stew in her embarrassment, not only at getting wet from Peter's very professional massage, but at him now knowing exactly what he does to her. She groans when Peter's receptionist calls to confirm her appointment, but she says that yes, she'll be there.

Somehow, she manages to make it to her appointment and into the room. She's been embarrassed around hot guys before, this is nothing new. Except she'll be naked. And the hot guy will be rubbing oil all over her. It'll be fine, sure. 

Everything starts like normal. Peter has the candle lit and the music playing and the sheets warmed, just like normal. She undresses and slides face-down under the sheets, just like normal. Unlike usual, her nipples are already hard and sensitive when they brush against the sheet, and there's already warmth between her thighs. She doesn't know why, there shouldn't be anything exciting about this, but there is. 

Peter touches her softly at first, more like he just wants to feel her skin versus actually massaging her. He sweeps his hands down her back before pressing one of those _spots_ again. She sucks in a harsh breath and instead of moving on, Peter presses down more, rubbing small circles around the spot. Heat is pooling between her legs again and Peter just isn't letting up. She makes a small noise and Peter just hums.

"It's okay," he murmurs. 

"Sorry, I - "

"It's a perfectly natural reaction to have," Peter says. It takes a minute and him softening him touch for his meaning to sink in, then she groans a little. The bastard, he knows exactly what he's doing to her. She opens her mouth to say something, she isn't sure what, then he's rubbing over another spot he'd discovered, the one near her shoulder that has her arm twitching and the tension leaving her body. She groans. "There we are," he murmurs. 

"Peter..." Stiles says.

"It's okay, your body wants this," he says. 

Peter's hands rub down her back, fingers brushing the sheet covering her ass. His fingers ghost up her sides, brushing against the curves of her breasts. Stiles has to remind herself to breathe as he starts in on her back, back into familiar territory. His touches linger a bit more, though. His hands caress her skin in a way that is not clinical at all. 

Stiles' breath catches when he tugs the sheet down, exposing her ass and legs. He just hums and rubs more lotion onto his hands before kneading the flesh of her ass, pulling the the cheeks apart and exposing her hole before he continues down her thighs, rubbing over her hamstrings and dipping into her inner thighs. They're smeared with her wetness and she gasps when Peter brushes her labia, but he makes no move other than that, simply continues down the insides of her thighs to her knees, then down her calves to massage the arches of her feet. 

Stiles has never had a thing for feet. Feet are gross, they don't do it for her, but she's heard that people have erogenous zones there. She's never believed it, but there's something in what Peter is doing...She squeezes her thighs together, needing some relief to her aching core. Peter tugs at her legs, making her straighten them and spread them, just enough that she knows her sex is exposed to his view. He trails his hands up her calves and inner thighs, stopping to gather the wetness smeared on her skin, before tracing a finger up her soaking slit. Stiles keens and jerks, trying to keep her body still.

"Look at you, sweetheart," Peter croons. He rubs about her labia and she wants desperately to push back against his hand, to get his finger inside her, but then he's taking his hand away. She whines and Peter just chuckles. "Turn over for me."

Normally, he holds the sheet over her so she doesn't accidentally flash him, but she gets no such courtesy this time. He watches her, eyes hungry, as she turns over, breasts swaying with the movement, displaying her hard little nipples. She settles on her back, arms at her sides, though it's taking everything she has not to cover herself. She wants him to see her, wants him to look his fill. 

"Beautiful," he says. 

Peter starts at her neck, rubbing out the tension she hadn't even realized was there, before tracing fingertips down to her collarbones. He traces the delicate skin before moving lower, taking her breasts in his hands and massaging them firmly, his thumbs flicking over her nipples. Stiles' breath hitches and she arches into his touch, making him chuckle. He moves on, kneading gently at her abdomen and making her giggle. It earns her a genuine smile and for some reason, that of all things, makes her blush. 

Peter works at the muscles of her hips that lead to her thighs, completely skipping where she wants him to touch her the most. He tells her her quads are tense, and she wants to quip back at him that gee, she wonders why, but then he's digging him thumbs into the tense muscle and she has no words other than a long, drawn out groan. She has a brief, hysterical thought that she's glad she shaved as he works down her legs, rubbing at the balls of her feet. 

Peter toys with her ankles before tugging at them, encouraging her to widen her legs. He rubs his hands up her calves, parting her legs and massaging the muscles of her inner thighs. Stiles sighs and relaxes into his touch. Her core is hot and wet, exposed to his gaze and she can't find it in her to feel self conscious when she's this relaxed.

Peter's hands move in soft circles up her thighs until he's brushing at her soaked labia. She's sure there's going to be a wet spot under her when she moves, but she isn't embarrassed, not knowing that Peter wants this. 

She's had her eyes closed, enjoying his ministrations, but has to open them now, has to see his face while he touches her like this. Peter looks calm, but his eyes are hungrily glued between her legs as his finger teases along her slit, coating it in the moisture gathered there. Slowly, he presses a thick finger into her and Stiles lets out a gutteral groan. It's been so long since she's had something inside her and his finger feels so much bigger than one, even two of hers.

"Are you okay?" Peter asks.

"Mmhmm," Stiles hums, spreading her legs a little wider. 

Peter chuckles and crooks his finger in her, gently pressing against her g-spot and rubbing his palm against her clit. Stiles gasps, wanting to throw her head back and close her eyes in ecstasy, but she she needs to see Peter. He watches her like she's the only thing in the world, as if bringing her pleasure is all he wants. 

"We're hoping to release even more tension," Peter says. He takes his free hand and sets it over her lower belly, pressing against her g-spot from the inside and outside right when he presses another finger into her. Stiles mewls, hips pressing up into his capable hands. "Your body is still holding onto stress."

"Can't have that," Stiles pants.

"Exactly," Peter says with a smirk.

He does something with his fingers, Stiles isn't even sure what, but suddenly she's seeing stars. Her cunt is tightening around him, getting closer and closer to the edge. His hand is making obscene, wet noises as he thrusts his fingers in and out of her. Stiles tenses up, body ready to release, then Peter presses hard on her g-spot. Stiles shrieks as she comes, a gush of liquid spilling from between her thighs. Peter hums and keeps at it, fucking her with his fingers until she's too oversensitive and has to push him away. 

"That's never happened before," she murmurs, face bright red. "I've never, um, squirted."

Peter looks absolutely delighted at that. Her body is shaking with aftershocks and watching him bring his fingers to his mouth and suck the taste of her off of them is too much for her.

"Not fair," she groans.

"Quite fair," Peter says. Stiles reaches for his belt but he takes her hand and kisses the back of it instead. "This was about you."

"But..."

"Get dressed, little one. We have stretches to go over," Peter says.

Stiles pouts but does as he says. She doesn't wait for him to leave the room, simply dabs between her thighs with the sheet and rolls off the table. She shimmies into her panties and bra and nothing else before turning to face him.

"Stretches?" she asks innocently.

Peter wrenches his gaze from where it's been running down her body and focuses on her eyes. Stiles smirks. She leans over, resting her elbows on the table and keeps her back straight, legs spread and looks at him over her shoulder. It's the exact same stretch he showed her last session.

"Am I doing it right?" she asks innocently.

Peter growls a little under his breath and stalks forward. He rests his hands on her hips, running one up her back and pressing her more toward the table.

"Hips up more," he grunts. 

Stiles complies, pushing her hips up and back so her ass rubs against the front of Peter's jeans, pressing against his straining erection.

"Oops," she says, pressing back harder. "Sorry."

Peter growls louder and yanks her back by the waist, grinding against her ass. 

"You're an absolute menace," he says. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been working on you? Touching you, hearing all the little noises you make?"

"I didn't know," she gasps.

"Mmm," Peter says. He leans over, covering her body with his, and noses at her neck. "Tell me now if you don't want this."

Stiles rolls her hips back, rubbing her ass against him.

"I want this," she says. 

Peter hisses and nips at her neck in warning before standing back up. He doesn't bother undressing, merely undoes he jeans and pulls out his cock. It's uncut and as thick as Stiles expected and she licks her lips. She'd love to get her mouth on him, feel the heavy weight on her tongue, but Peter has other plans. He jerks himself a few times before impatiently pushing Stiles' panties aside and notching the head of his cock at her opening. 

"Please," Stiles mewls when he doesn't move for a long moment. "Peter, please."

Peter slides into her soaked cunt, her walls clinging to his thick cock. Stiles rests her head on the table, taking deep breaths. He's bigger than anything she's taken and while it doesn't hurt, it is a stretch. Peter gives her a second to get used to it, running his hands up her sides until she's moving her hips, trying to take more of him into her.

Peter isn't rough with her, but he doesn't treat her like a delicate flower either. His thrusts are deep and long, filling her so much that she has to place a hand on her stomach, sure she should be able to feel him moving within her. Peter's grip on her waist is harsh, his fingertips biting into her pale skin. She leans down more onto the table, presenting herself to him. 

"Such a good girl," Peter says, fucking into her harder. "Look at you, so perfect for me."

Stiles pants underneath him and worms a hand underneath her, rubbing quickly against her swollen clit. She needs to come with him in her, needs to feel what it's like to spasm around something that thick inside her. The sound of skin on skin is filling the room, drowning out the soft music Peter has playing. 

Peter's thrusts are picking up speed, making the table groan under their weight. Stiles is making high pitched noises that she can't control, unable to make herself be quiet even though she doesn't want them to be heard. She presses against her clit harder and comes around Peter's cock, shouting Peter's name as she orgasms. She collapses forward on the table, shuddering and gasping as Peter slams into her, chasing his own orgasm. She groans as he flexes inside her, unloading deep in her cunt. Peter rests his head on her back, mouthing at her skin while they both come down.

There's a wet, squealching noise when Peter pulls out. He uses the sheet to clean her up as best her can before righting her panties and turning her around. Before she can say anything, he's kissing her, gently cupping her face in his large hands. Stiles melts into it. It's been too long since she's been kissed, and never has she been kissed like this.

"Wow," she says when he pulls back.

"Mmhmm," he says. He kisses her one more time, a light peck, before pulling back. "Get dressed, we'll make your appointment for next week."

"What a hardship," she jokes.

"And after that, we'll get Thai food."

That makes Stiles trip over her shoe. Peter steadies her with a hand on her arm. 

"What, really?" she asks.

"Unless you don't want to?" Peter asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"No! I mean yes, I want to," Stiles says quickly. "It's just, can you do that?" she asks.

"I'm the owner, I can do whatever I want," Peter says.

"Oh, I'm sleeping with the owner?" Stiles says with a grin. 

"You are. Hopefully many times, in many different positions," Peter says.

And whenever her insurance stops covering her sessions, well, Peter has her back.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com) or my [ main blog](http://www.femmmefatalist.tumblr.com).


End file.
